Page:The International - Volume 1.djvu/164

and seemed unable to turn them away. Surprised and almost stupid, she asked: "What is the matter now?"

In the meantime, the sound was coming nearer and nearer, and suddenly the house was so full of strange people that it seemed as if the whole town were trying to force its way into the gloomy Gothic halls where Christ was bleeding in his agony, and where the pinks smelled so sweet.

For a long time neither Phenicia nor Venera could comprehend what it all meant. But finally the meaning dawned upon their minds, dulled by misery; the syndic, Don Agostino, was dead, and Archangelo, his murderer, had been seized and put in chains.

Phenicia, rigid with horror, stood as if petrified, her eyes turned up so that only the whites were visible. They looked like the eyes of those marble heads that the peasants sometimes find while plowing, and that the foreigners pay such high prices for.

"For God's sake, cry!" exclaimed a neighbor, seizing hold of Phenicia and shaking her violently. "Cry, or you will strangle!"

As if wishing to obey, she fell upon the stone floor, buried her face in her hands, and big tears trickled through her fingers.

Soft words of consolation now fell upon her like gentle caresses. Some of the women, however, tried to tell her about the murder.

"He shot him in the head," said one.

"He plunged a knife into his heart," said another.

Then rose Venera, who till then had sat silent and motionless, her gaunt figure towering above the rest, her yellowish face radiant with joy.

"Ah, my Archangelo! My son, I am proud of you!" she exclaimed in a wild, triumphant tone, clapping her hands and laughing. "He avenged himself! He avenged himself! blessed be the day that he was born! Who has a son like mine!

"For some moments silence reigned in the room, many a mother really envying her her son. But suddenly a voice was heard, saying:

"Do not rejoice, neighbor Venera; you know that he cannot escape the gallows."

Then Venera fell back upon her bed, cursed the day she was born, and hurled such frightful reproaches both against God and the Virgin that all the women present crossed themselves and fled.

A great change came about in public opinion.

"He was driven to desperation," said Nunziata, as she shook her distaff into the air. "Woe to them that trample upon the law in the name of the law!"

And the voice of Nunziata was the voice of the whole town.

There was no longer any want in the palace of Corvejo. Gifts came in from all directions; and Phenicia, who before had begged in vain for work, now had more than she could do. She was thankful, but nevertheless she could not suppress a bitter smile, as she thought: "The half of this would have helped us before, and saved Archangelo from a desperate deed."

Time passed on, and still poor Archangelo pined away in the prison of Messina, awaiting his trial.

Fortunately, Don Agostino did not die, and was rapidly recovering. Old Nunziata, experienced in all things, prophesied to Venera and Phenicia that Archangelo's punishment would not, therefore, be severe.

"I believe your words," Venera would say; "but woe to the syndic if it does not turn out as we expect. I'll take a flint stone, aim at his head and, by the living God, finish the game that my son merely wounded. Then they can tear me to pieces."

Some time after this, a letter came from Archangelo's attorney, saying that he wished to speak with Phenicia on a matter of great importance. It was evident that her husband's fate was the matter in question, and she immediately decided to undertake the journey to Messina.

Nunziata's grandson, Nanni, willingly lent her his mule, for, to go by train would have cost money. Besides, from the time that Lucia's husband perished so miserably under the wheels of the locomotive, the whole family looked upon all